The red giant charged at Vanrra and slammed him against the side of the ship. Vanrra still didn't fully control his body; he reacted too late. The red one tried to grab him to bring him down. Vanrra struggled and managed to push him back. The red mech attacked with a kick to his ankles; Vanrra lost his balance and fell to the ground. Each of his blows made the earth tremble.
The cockpit shook. The screen filled with tabs full of red numbers. —Get up, you piece of trash! Doc! Can you still hear me?! Doc?! —The attacker tried to kick him on the ground. Vanrra moved just in time.
They spoke over the communicator. —What are you doing?! I told you not to damage him!
—He's resisting, General. Like a rookie. —Vanrra slowly got to his feet, getting used to the nerves.
—What are you waiting for, Amir?! Finish him now!
—One moment, General: I am a man of honor; it's no fun if he can't defend himself. —Vanrra stood up; adrenaline rushed through his veins; at last, he could move his arms and legs clearly. He opened and closed his fists as he moved his arms. —He's either really new or mocking me. —He took a defensive stance; Vanrra showed his empty hands as a sign of submission.
—I don't want to fight, just stop! How can I talk to him? —A menu opened at the edge of his vision; the windows seemed to react to his thoughts. He had no idea what he was looking for; he just opened icons and tabs at random. —He's a pilot just like me; there has to be a way to communicate. —He grew desperate seeing so many unfamiliar options.
He was hit by a surprise blow from the red mecha; his response was too slow. The attacker landed blow after blow, pushing him back. Vanrra fell to the ground. Amir threw himself on top of him and grabbed both his forearms.
Vanrra's struggles were useless. —Move, you piece of shit! How do I move this crap?! —He panicked; his mind was pure chaos. He activated every tab he could; his vision filled with graphs and incomprehensible numbers. The cockpit lit up with a red light and started blaring an annoying alarm. The sharp sound stabbed at his eardrums; as much as he wanted to cover his ears, he was still anchored to the seat. —How do I get out of here?! Doc! Doc! —His vision started to fade; he stopped feeling his body; it felt like he was swimming in a sea of beams of light.
Vanrra stopped struggling. —General, it looks like he's given up. That was too easy.
The general was furious. —Are you sure? I don't want another incident.
—It seems so. Order the men to get ready to open his neck. —As soon as he finished speaking, Vanrra made a quick move with his legs; with the momentum, he managed to stand up. Amir didn't see it coming; he let go of his arms. Before he could defend himself, Vanrra hit him so hard he nearly knocked him out. The ground shook; Vanrra threw him to the ground and kept hitting him.
Amir blocked almost all the blows. Vanrra kept hitting and hitting; a shot fired from the sands, one of the paramilitaries' cannons, and more followed from multiple directions. Vanrra left Amir on the ground to go after the attackers. The red giant got up and took a combat stance. He turned on a speaker. —Hey, little blue! I'm here, coward; don't run away! —Vanrra turned and also took a fighting stance; he ignored the shots; they bounced off his armor. —Who is this bastard? The son of a bitch has experience.
Vanrra ran toward Amir and threw perfect punches at him. Amir could only cover himself, unable to counterattack; his opponent's guard was flawless. He retreated toward the dunes to gain higher ground. Vanrra didn't let up; Amir grew desperate. As soon as he saw an opening, the red giant lunged at Vanrra and grabbed him tightly around the torso. Both fell to the other side of the dune, rolling through the sand.
Vanrra held Amir by the waist with his legs; both were locked together, only able to squeeze tighter and tighter. Amir tried to wobble free; he had to activate all his turbo bombs to do so. They rolled further down until they reached a cave between the rock and the sand. Neither of them noticed it; they both rolled in until they fell by accident.
Their mechas crashed into some rocks until they reached the bottom, about forty meters deep. They landed one on top of the other, unable to move because of the positions they had assumed during the struggle.
Vanrra woke up after the blow. —Move, you damn piece of trash! —He tried to move with all his strength; he was exhausted; the giant didn't respond. The screens slowly went dark; the wrist rings opened. He let go of the levers and stretched out his arms. The cockpit was on its side. The electric pulses had stopped; all the lights and panels in the cockpit went out; a few red lights came on. A small panel with a multitude of buttons opened next to his seat. He tried to guess which one they had activated, pressing them one after another. —Piece of junk, you're not responding! Do something!
Someone knocked on the hatch from outside. —Hey! Are you coming out?! Open up right now! —It was the voice of a young man. He banged on the metal repeatedly. —I know you're in there. Open up! You can't move! —Vanrra got out of the seat and almost fell toward the screens. He went to the hatch and unlocked it. He had to move the heavy metal plate with all his strength. As soon as he saw the light outside, the boy pointed a revolver at him. —How stupid, you gave me many…Wait, you're not one of them. —Vanrra hit him in the arm. The boy slipped and fell backward.
Vanrra yelled at him. —You damn bastard, you wanted to kill me!
The boy fell only about a meter. He had straight, blond, somewhat messy hair. A pretty face. He was dressed in a brown outfit, with many belts and straps, a military pilot's suit. —What's wrong with you?! Is that how you greet people?! —The two mechas were lying on the ground, powered down, one on top of the other. Vanrra looked out the hatch; the back of the neck was almost level with the ground. —Hey! Answer me! What are you doing piloting one of these?!
—Bastard!
He got up from the ground and brushed off the dust. —Hey! I haven't disrespected you. Are you coming down from there?!
—Who are you?!
—First you hit and then you ask questions. How out of place!
—You attacked me first!
—What were you doing on that ship?! It's not my fault I mistook you for one of them.
—Why did you attack me?! I tried to surrender.
He sat down on one of the rocks. —Bad luck, but what's done is done. Hey, when are you coming down? It's hot up there!
—I don't trust you!
—Because of this? —He raised his revolver; it was full of elegant engravings. —It has no bullets! It's just to scare.
—Who are you?! Who's up there with you?!
—How arrogant. I'm Amir! Amir Sameer! The guys up there, don't worry about them; they won't hurt you!
—Why did you attack?!
—Hey, it's very uncomfortable talking like this. Why don't you come down?! After all, we're both stuck in this crevice! —Vanrra looked up to see the cave they had fallen into. —There you are! Come into the shade, or you'll get roasted! —Amir tossed the revolver aside. —Are you just going to stare at me?! —The stranger inspired some trust; it was clear he didn't want to hurt him. Vanrra climbed down carefully; the rocky floor was covered in sand; the cave looked like a half-closed maw. Only a little light came in through the opening, illuminating the mechas. —What's your name, comrade? —He wiped his boots. —I don't hold a grudge; it was just a misunderstanding; everything will be fine.
—My name is… Vanrra.
—Vanrra? Are you a girl?
—It's not a woman's name.
—I know a chick named Vanrra; she's a flutist. Do you know how to play the flute?
—Why did you try to kill me?! You attacked everyone up there!
—It's not my fault you were with those guys; damn gray pirates. I don't mind how you ended up with them.
—They had me captured, along with the doc.
—A doc? Doctor of what?
—I don't know; he's my teacher, or rather, he's like my father. I travel with him.
—What does he teach you?
—Why are you acting like you didn't try to shoot me?
—You're very resentful; nothing happened to you. I had to be cautious; I pictured you as an elite soldier, serious, with long hair, a bushy beard, and a stern face, maybe even one-eyed. Where did you learn to pilot that model?
—It's my first time getting into one.
He said sarcastically. —And I'm a prince. Seriously, tell me, in confidence, was it your teacher? Ask him to teach me too.
He sat down on a nearby rock, trembling from dizziness. —I swear it was my first time; I got in because I had no other choice; I would have died on the ship. —He looked up at the mouth of the cave. —I hope he's okay.
—Don't worry, they'll bring a crane soon and get us out of here.
—Who?
He unfastened a canteen from his straps. —My boys, isn't it obvious? Did you hit your head? Do I have to explain everything to you like a child?
—Yes, you hit me. It's your fault we're here.
—Naah! I saved you; those bastards would have enslaved you. Want some water? —He offered the bottle. —Vanrra took it and drank from it like an animal. —Leave a little. —Vanrra was exhausted. —Tell me, Vanrra, where are you from? You don't seem used to the heat; your skin is too pale for this desert.
—From the northeast, from the Tian Shan mountains.
—Really? What's a country boy like you doing in this desert? You don't look like someone from the countryside. Is it true you live alongside horses?
—Where are you from?
—From Ab.
—Ab? I hardly know anything about Ab.
—Do you know anything about the world besides riding horses?
—I never came down from the mountains; I know almost nothing.
—Ab is a great nation. It rules from the Strait of Melkart to here, the province of Ox, or so it's said.
—Ab, I remember; the doc mentioned it.
—Are you talking to yourself?
—Yes, aren't you?
—Me too, but I don't do it out loud. I guess in the mountains it's hard for anyone to hear you. Here, the walls have ears; you can't let your guard down. —Vanrra looked at his blond hair; it reminded him of someone, though he didn't know who. —What? Surprised? —He shook his hair.
—Is it natural?
—Of course, haven't you ever seen a blonde before?
—I don't know. Does your hair grow that color all over your body?
—I'd rather not say. —He looked up, waiting for help. —Vanrra, why did you leave your mountain? How did you end up on that ship? Are you going somewhere specific?
Vanrra remembered that scene, his friends, his village, and his life. That splendid titan. Now he found himself at the bottom of a cave, trapped with another madman and two combat mechs. Steel giants, titans like the ones who destroyed his life; could they be the same? That damned titan that crushed Devi was different: it had no cables, it didn't make the noise of a machine, it appeared out of nowhere, and fell with a lightning bolt from the sky. It was like the red titan from his dream; it bled. Under the metal, there was flesh.
They had something to do with the demons, the beast of the forest, the abomination of the prairie, the crab. Could they be related? Those things ate people. Did they eat everyone in the village?
Vanrra couldn't take it anymore and just vomited. —Gross. Can't you warn me? It's obvious it's your first time. I used to get sick the first times I piloted, too. You'll get used to it. —He pulled a cloth handkerchief from his pocket and came closer. Vanrra sobbed in silence. —Hey, sorry… I didn't mean to offend you. Please, don't cry.
—Don't come near me, damn it, you annoying asshole.
—Do you need… a hug?
He remembered the pain of the shocks, those thousands of whips. —I don't want your fucking hugs! Who would want a hug from a crazy bastard like you?! Murderer. —They both fell silent.
Above the crevice, the raiders had surrounded the cave with their vehicles. They had captured all the paramilitaries. Hiram was taken by two soldiers to the top of one of the dunes; one of the escorts was unlike the others. He wore only a shirt, a vest, and pants with straps. He was a big man with a bushy mustache. He pointed two revolvers at him. —What did you say your name was?
—Hiram Abiff.
—How did you let yourself get captured by those wretches? I would have shot myself before going with them.
—I wasn't alone.
—You're lucky they didn't kill you, especially with those strange clothes.
—Who? The pirates or you?
—Both.
They reached the top of the dune. Behind them, dozens of men could be seen looting the ship like ants. —Hage. —The voice was firm and deep, with an almost mystical tone. —Why are you pointing at that man?
—He wants to speak with you, General.
—He's unarmed; treat him as a guest.
—As you command. —He holstered his revolvers.
The general stood with his back to them, looking toward the other side of the dune. He was covered by a white cloak. His outfit was blue: a tunic that reached his knees. His sleeves ended in fine white gloves. He wore a belt with his pistols and a ceremonial dagger. His pants were loose, and he wore tall boots. —Come closer.
Hiram walked to his side. —A pleasure.
He was looking at the great crevice. —What did you say your name was?
—Hiram Abiff.
—I like that name; I'd like to know its origin.
—Are you the general?
—That's what it seems. Do you know the mech's pilot?
—I travel with him; he's my companion.
—As the story goes, yours were captured while crossing the desert, and when we attacked, yours took the opportunity to escape and activated the mech to flee the ship.
—Just as I told your men.
—Not everyone knows how to activate a mech, much less pilot one; almost no one does. If you don't work for the pigs of the High Porte, and he's not one of mine… Well, that leaves me with many options.
Hage said mockingly. —A little bear from Kislev.
—I'm not from this continent.
—So what are you doing here? —A great gust of wind lifted the sands; the whispers of the wind covered their voices. Soon it faded. —Is that all?
—Right now, I don't want any trouble; I just want to go back home.
—Where is your home?
—Very far away. —He saw a couple of trucks with big cranes arrive; they positioned themselves around the crevice.
—If you know how to activate a mech, I suppose you also know how to operate a crane.
—I'm an expert in all kinds of machines.
—I can imagine; now I understand why the High Porte captured you.
—I'll gladly help you with anything.
—The pilot, who is he? Does he work with you?
—Of course not.
—So how does he know how to pilot? Did you teach him?
—Under the right circumstances, anyone can accomplish great feats.
—When we're done here, you can come with us to the west, out of this desert. It's better than staying with these pirates to die in the desert.
—I'd be truly grateful.
Vanrra lost his gaze in the shadows behind the light falling through the crevice. The walls seemed to have sores, so deep that something could be hiding in them. Amir asked him. —Hey… Have you calmed down yet?
—Shut up.
—We'll be here a while longer; I don't want to just stare at the wall. Want more water?
—Do you still have some?
—I don't think so, but I can give you some snack bars; you must be hungry.
—Nobody wants anything from you.
He took food out of his bags; it was wrapped in a handkerchief. —Lies, everyone wants my snack bars; try them, they're strawberry.
—What's a strawberry?
—It's a very small fruit; it looks like a red pine nut; it's incredibly sweet and delicious; I could eat thousands. If I married a fruit, I'd definitely marry a strawberry. —Vanrra started sobbing again; he seemed like a dying little animal. —Did I really hit you that hard? What's wrong with you?… Can I help you with anything?
He wiped his tears. —Yes, lend me your weapon.
—It's called a revolver. What do you want it for?
—I want to see it. It looks really nice; I've never seen one before.
—How do you know it was a weapon if you've never seen one?
—Because you pointed it at me earlier, I just want to see it up close. It caught my attention.
—But how did you know it was a weapon?
—Because I know weapons exist, I just hadn't seen one like that before. Please, just give it to me.
—If I had pointed a banana at you, would you have thought it was a gun?
—Give it to me, please! Just shut up and give it to me! —He broke down again; he was barely trying to keep his composure. —I hate you, damn it. You would have killed me up there.
—I didn't want to kill you; I would never kill you.
—You should.
—What's wrong with you? Vanrra, did those guys do something bad to you?
—You can shut your mouth.
—We'll be here for a while; I don't want to get bored, and I don't want to listen to your crying all this time either. If you have a problem, you should talk about it. The rocks won't make fun of you.
—Who are you? I don't know you; to me, you're just a damn murderer, a thief.
—I'm not a thief; I just take what belongs to me.
—You're a damn murderer; you had no mercy on those people.
—They would have no mercy on me; I know it very well. I saved your life; you should thank me.
—Save me? I don't thank you for that.
—And you, teacher? I saved him too; you would have dragged him into slavery for your selfish desire.
—He would have understood me.
—No one understands you, not even you understand yourself. I want to talk, to have some fun, but you cry and cry, always on the defensive.
—I don't know you. I'm not a psychopath like you; I don't enjoy watching people die. I don't enjoy getting into that thing and being electrocuted nearly to death.
—I don't enjoy it; I hate it, but I have no choice. I'm not like you; I don't break down crying. You'll get used to it; as bad as it seems, it doesn't leave any sequels.
—Psychopath.
—I mean piloting. The other thing is a struggle: all for the sake of a greater cause; I'm just a pawn. I feel sorry for you; you could have been the best soldier I've ever faced, but you turned out to be just a hysterical girl.
—Shut up! You don't know what I've been through. You're just an arrogant psychopath, damn heartless bastard! You killed all of them, crushed them with that thing, just like in my village. Because of bastards like you, I lost everything: my friends, my home, everything I had; all dead, my whole life. I have nothing left. —Amir listened silently. —I don't even know if it was people like you, some of those monsters, or something else. I have no answers; I don't know where to go; I don't know what my life is about.
—I lost everything too; it's been some time now. My parents, my siblings, my whole family. Everyone I thought was my friend abandoned me; I realized no one cared about me. I was left alone, wandering the desert and hiding in the mountains, like a fugitive. —Vanrra stopped sobbing and paid attention to Amir. —The first months are always the hardest; you don't know where to go. It'll take you a long time to get used to it.
—Do you know where to go?
—No, I have no idea. Fortunately, I also had a mentor; thanks to him, I'm still alive. He told me what I had to do and where we had to go. He's like a father to me.
They were silent for a while. Vanrra calmed down almost completely. —Amir… I'm sorry.
—It's all right; if you had been an elite soldier, I would have shot you already.
—How did you get that giant?
—The mech? It was rescued from some warehouses. It's quite a marvel, tough as hell. I was thinking about painting it yellow; I don't like that earthy color.
—I mean, what is it? Who created them? How many are there?
—The wonders of Reason; they didn't fall from the sky. They were created thanks to Holy Reason.
—Holy Reason?
—Don't mock her in their presence. —He pointed at the mechs. —You'll bring us bad luck. I forgot you come from the most remote place in the world, though you seem to know a lot of words for a country boy.
—I know a few things thanks to my teacher, but he never mentioned anything about Holy Reason.
—He must be a heretic; maybe they're stoning him up there right now.
—What are you saying?!
—I'm kidding; we're not like the High Porte; nothing will happen to him. You can't take a joke.
—No, it's just that I'm still…
—Dizzy?
—How was the first time you piloted?
—Nothing nice; I tried for six days straight. I was about to give up. No one forced me to pilot; it was because I wanted to. The pressure came from myself; maybe that's why it took me so long. You were lucky.
—Lucky?
—When someone is under real pressure, they tend to give their all. You unlock limits you didn't know you had. You saved yourself a lot of pain.
—Do you know how that thing works? After the shocks, I felt like I merged with the mech, like it was an extension of my body. I also felt something in the back of my neck…
—I don't know, the wonders of Holy Reason. Did you also get dizzy with the menus?
—I didn't even know what I was doing; I just saw random numbers. They seemed to react to my thoughts.
—I still keep getting lost; every time I get in, I discover something new. Not everyone can get into one; far fewer know how to pilot it; that's why there's no manual.
—Why are you talking to me so calmly? You don't know me at all.
—I don't know; I think you're interesting.
—What do you do, Amir? Steal?
—We're not thieves; all of that belongs to us.
—Sounds like an excuse.
—It's not; the High Porte and its corrupt satraps are the real thieves; they stole everything from the royal family of Ab.
—Royal family?
—The kings of Ab. Don't you know the story?
—I'm just a dumb country boy.
He stood on the rock. —Three years ago, the High Porte and a coalition of bastards staged a coup against the Fatima dynasty, rulers of Ab. They killed the brave and glorious king and almost the entire family. They forced people to swear loyalty to the new government, but fortunately, many refused; they remain loyal to the Fatimas. We fight against the bastards from the capital.
—Do you know where the remaining Fatimas are? Who is their new king?
—Who knows, maybe they're hiding in some cave. The High Porte is still looking for them, so they must still be alive.
—Does that give you the right to steal whatever you want?
—It sounds pretty bad when you put it that way. The people support us; the High Porte are tyrants. If it were up to those bastards, we'd all be riding horses. Holy Reason doesn't speak to despots like them.
—Speak? What exactly is Holy Reason?
—She is… it's a bit complicated to explain. Imagine you have two cows: Holy Reason is a golden cow, and…
—Whatever you say.
—Hey! More respect: are you on our side or with the enemy?
—Do you think I can decide?
—You can speak; nobody is forcing you right now. Being lukewarm in life is the closest thing to being a worthless animal. If you have a goal, something to fight for, you'll be unstoppable.
Vanrra looked at the strange boy; he felt comforted to know he wasn't the only madman in this world. They weren't so different. —The royal family never tried to enslave me; I'll recognize them as long as they're legitimate.
He climbed down from the rock. —That's right, now you're a new member.
—Member?
—One of us. —He gave him a strong handshake. —With this, I welcome you to our order.
—Order? What are you talking about? I don't…
—It's nothing bad; we're the Ismaelites, that's what we call ourselves. But don't tell anyone; it's a secret. I'm telling you only.
—Ismaelites? Is that what the men up there are called?
—Yes, it's from an old tradition, from a very ancient time. We're supposed to be descended from someone named Ismael. To be honest, I still don't know the whole story; I don't have a high enough rank. Just know our family has been here for thousands of years.
—How many years exactly?
—More or less... about six thousand; it's difficult to calculate. Depends on whether you count the legends.
He got excited. —Do you know a lot about world history?
—Something like that, they taught me, but I never paid much attention.
—Do you know anything about demons? What are they?
—Demons? Do you mean the djinn?
—The blue-eyed beasts.
—Not much; I've only come across three in my entire life. I know the story of how the Fatimas faced...—Large ropes dropped from above. A group of soldiers descended on them.